


Separation Anxiety

by Vexatious



Series: Adventures in Baratale [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baratale, Bara Sans, Bara Underlust Sans, Bara Underswap Sans - Freeform, Bara papyrus, Baratale - Freeform, Begging, Blindfolds, Bondage, Bondage and Discipline, Cock Rings, Collars, Cunnilingus, Dominance, Dominatrix, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Ecto-Tongue (Undertale), Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Femdom, Foot Jobs, Human Furniture, Knifeplay, Master/Pet, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Painplay, Possessive Behavior, Riding Crops, Semi-Public Sex, Skeleton Sex (Undertale), Sounding, Stalking, Swapfell Papyrus - Freeform, Swapfell Sans, Underlust Sans - Freeform, Underswap Sans, Yandere, boot licking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 07:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12859620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vexatious/pseuds/Vexatious
Summary: Swapfell Papyrus (Haze) is looking for a master, and you're looking for a pet. What could go wrong?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Baratale/Baraverse is an AU created by [staxurst](http://staxurst.tumblr.com) on Tumblr.  
> Her blog is 18+ only, and has asks/events for her bara monster characters.  
> Check out my Tumblr: [vex-bittys](http://vex-bittys.tumblr.com)

You survey the club with a look of disgust etched on your features. You can almost feel the frown lines forming. This club used to be one of the few serious dom-sub bastions left in the city. Used to be. How far it had fallen since its glory days, mere months ago! 

Tonight the place is crowded with nervous individuals trying to satisfy secret handcuff and spanking kinks, not a single one of them truly understanding the thrill of complete control or the exquisite taste of painful pleasure. They are sheep in wolves’ clothing, and you want the wolf.

That’s when you see  _him_ , an alluringly tall skeleton monster standing in the corner, his form mostly obscured by shadows. From within his den of darkness, his orange eyelights flash, taking in the room before returning to rest on you. He’s not meeting your eyes though. He keeps his turned down slightly. The averted eyes, the collar he’s wearing, and the dim but visible glow of excitement from his groin entice you. This is your wolf.

You raise a hand, knowing that he is watching. You point at him, then at the seat next to you, and he moves immediately, striding confidently but obediently to your side. Instead of sitting, he kneels, lowering himself so that he doesn’t tower over you. Excellent. 

“You’re quite the obedient dog, aren’t you?” you ask him, watching for his reaction. He flushes slightly, orange magic dusting his cheekbones.

“Yes, Mistress,” he replies, breathy. He’s excited; you can tell. Your eyes flit to his collar, searching. A round gold tag is engraved with the word Haze, and you wonder if that’s his name or his owner’s.

“That’s a lovely collar, but where’s your leash?” The question is locked and loaded.

“Hopefully in your hands tonight, Mistress.” The answer does not disappoint. Heat comes off of him in waves, and the bulge in his pants is a testament to his eagerness.

“And what,” you say coolly, “makes you think I’d be interested in a mutt like you?” You press the tip of a high-heeled leather boot against his tented pants, and a bubble of precum leaks through the fabric. Interesting. “You’re drooling.”

His blush brightens as he shifts to keep the pressure of your foot on him. “Please, Mistress. I won’t disappoint you.” He actually pulls a leather leash, red like the collar, out of his back pocket and offers it to you. 

You stand, picking up the riding crop you brought with you to the club. He waits, still kneeling. You pluck the leash from his hands. “You’d better not.” You clip the leash to his collar. “Let’s go.”

He teleports you into darkness, leaving you disoriented. You can feel the vibrations of his movements through the leash as the slack is eaten up. He’s moving away from you. You tense, ready for anything… anything except the lights coming on. You recoil, covering your eyes with a hiss. You adjust to the brightness quickly, but the irritation lasts a bit longer.

“Mutt,” you growl. absorbing information about your surroundings without breaking the glare you’re aiming at skeleton. He has the decency to look sheepish, but that’s not good enough. He’s crouched on the floor of the bedroom you’re in. The room is sparsely decorated- bed, nightstand, closet, clothes pile, but you also notice suspension straps above the bed, sturdy metal rings along one wall at different heights, and a very sturdy metal bed frame with convenient spaces where handcuffs might be fastened or ropes tied.

Without warning, you slap his face with the riding crop. It’s a carefully measured blow, aimed at the right side of his face. You want to test his tolerance for (and enjoyment of) pain without risking his scarred jaw or gold tooth. You hold back your strength, the leather at the end of the crop merely glancing off of his cheekbone.

“Harder, Mistress,” he pants. You crack the riding crop viciously across the right side of his face, snapping his head to the side with the force of it. He’s  _actually_  drooling now.

“Next time, you will notify me  _before_  teleporting.”

“Yes, Mistress.” 

“As punishment, you will not be allowed to cum tonight.”

He whimpers. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Stay on your knees. Unfasten your jeans. I want to look at you while you pleasure me. Now put your hands behind your back. That’s a good Mutt.” He obeys each order instantly. His cock, glowing a dark orange, is a sight to behold- long, girthy, and pierced. Precum dribbles from the tip to collect on the carpet in a fluorescent puddle.

Moving behind him, you turn the collar until the loop for the leash is facing backwards, and the leash drapes down his back. Pulling savagely, you use the end of the leash to tie his hands and arms together, the taut leather causing the collar to press into his throat, tilting his head back almost painfully. You circle back around to face him, tapping his chin with the riding crop.

“You won’t be in a position to use a safeword, so your tap out, if you want to stop, is the simple act of standing. Understand?”

“Yes Mistress.” His tongue is lolling and his eyelights have changed shape into hearts.

“No more talking. I’m going to put your mouth to better use.” You slide off your panties, but he’s so tall that you have to stand on the bed to position yourself correctly with your thighs resting on his shoulders and your slick entrance pressed to his mouth. The ridge of his nasal bone nudges your clit as he opens his jaws to taste you. You have to brace yourself with your palms flat on the wall as his tongue flicks out, the stud of his tongue piercing sliding against your sensitive nub.

You’ve never been with a monster that formed ectoflesh before, and honestly, you’ve been missing out as he wiggles his conjured magic into your folds. His sharp teeth scrape on the flesh of your plump lips, sending a shiver up your spine. It’s not enough though. Your pussy is aching for stimulation, dripping wet with need, and you’re about to reprimand the lazy skeleton when suddenly the full, thick length of his tongue is inside you.

You cry out in pleasure as his tongue curls and writhes in your pussy. There’s no way the size of it is natural, and you don’t care. He’s slurping wetly, straining to penetrate further as you forcefully ride his face. Sharp teeth gently nip your clit as he tongue fucks you, the appendage darting in and out before plunging fully inside of you to rub your sensitive walls.Your fingernails drag down the wall, leaving marks as you struggle to maintain control.

His muffled moans remind you of your earlier command. “You aren’t allowed to cum, dog,” you remind him, running the leather tip of the riding crop slowly up and down his twitching length. You peer at it over your shoulder, hatching a devious plan. “Tongue fuck me harder, and I might reward you,” you purr, suddenly striking the sensitive tip of his cock with your crop.

He picks up his pace, more from the pleasure of being whipped than the promise of a reward. His tongue, deep in your pussy, finds your most sensitive spot and begins rubbing frantically as he sucks your juices hungrily into his mouth. You scream, feeling the piercing brushing your g-spot as he curls his tongue in the most delicious way. To ease the building pressure, you try to pull away slightly, but he’s relentless, following your movement and keeping your weight fully against his questing jaws.

You can’t hold back anymore; your walls are so sensitive that every move of his tongue is sending intense pleasure shooting through your entire body.Your eyes roll upwards, and your head is tossed back as you keen. All at once you’re cumming, squirting, releasing in spasms as he gulps, swallowing all he can with the rest mingling with his saliva on his mandible.

Breathing heavily, you take a moment to steady yourself before sliding off of him. The sight of him, open-mouthed and panting, drool and your orgasm dripping from his tongue, turns you on all over again. You like this mutt.

“You’ve been a good mutt, Haze.” He whimpers as you slash his cock with your crop again. “But now I want to hear you beg.”

“Please Mistress, please let me cum.” His hands are still tied. He can’t touch himself. He is forced to rely on you for release.

_SLAP._  

“Please! Please, Mistress!” He sounds so desperate, and you love it.

_SLAP._

“Pleeeeease!” He’s so close.

You pause. His eyes widen.

“Mistress, please let me cum, please…”

You use your boot toe to force his cock against his pelvic bone, applying crushing pressure as you lean forward. You watch his face, making sure he’s enjoying it, ready to stop if necessary. It isn’t necessary though. Stepping on his cock makes him orgasm  _hard_. Thick strands of cum shoot from his pulsing member, and some of it lands on your boot.

“Disgusting,” you hiss. You untie him quickly, jerking the leash to pull him forward onto his hands and knees. “Clean it up.” You sit on the bed and point to your dirtied shoe.

“Yes, Mistress,” he murmurs happily, lifting your foot and lapping his cum from the black leather.

“You did well,” you praise him when he’s finished tongue-washing his seed from your boot and the carpet. “Take me back to the club. You will meet me there tomorrow at 8 P.M. sharp. Understood?”

“Yes, Mistress.” He nuzzled his cheekbone along your thigh before teleporting you expertly back to the club, right onto a plush sofa. He watches with sharply gleaming eyes, gaze focused and unwavering, as you leave to return home, fully satisfied and enthusiastically contemplating your next session.

Haze whimpers softly, already unhappy at your departure.


	2. Chapter 2

It pleases you to see that Haze has arrived to the club early, but you’re significantly less pleased with what he’s currently doing. The tall skeleton monster lounges against the wall underneath a large No Smoking sign with a lit cigarette in his mouth. You frown. Where’s a rolled up newspaper when you need one? You can’t help but notice the other patrons, and even the bartender, studiously avoiding him, refusing to so much as glance in his direction. Not a single person dares to confront him about breaking the rules.

Haze’s deep orange eyelights track you as you stride confidently to one of the plush leather sofas that dot the seating area. He awaits your command, but you refuse to call him over. You watch him start to fidget out of the corner of your eye. After a few more moments, he can’t wait any longer and starts towards you, but you freeze him with a glare. Hesitantly, eyes sockets widened with a wounded look, he retreats back to his original position and resumes his wait.

You’ve put yourself in a difficult position with this punishment. Now you’ve got to find a way to amuse yourself while the mutt remains in his timeout. People watching gets boring in a hurry, and you briefly consider ordering an overpriced bottle of water just for something to do. A cocky male voice derails your train of thought. There are no survivors.

“You’d look really good tied to my bed. I bet you like being choked.”

You stare, mouth agape until the overpowering scent of hard liquor forces you to close it. He doesn’t seem to comprehend your look of disgust, possibly due to heavy intoxication. He looms over you, forcing himself into your personal space.

“C’mon, baby, lemme fuck you up real good,” he slurs, reaching for you. You’re out of your seat in the space of a moment, seizing his hand in a crushing grip and bending it backwards at a sharp and painful angle. He yelps and tries to pull away, but you’re not done with him yet.

“Try to put your hand on me again, and I’ll-” you start to hiss, but you never get to finish the threat because the drunk asshole is yanked bodily away from you. It’s not security, here to save the day. It’s Haze, and he has the other guy on the floor, enthusiastically bashing his face with a bony fist. When two burly bouncers arrive on the scene seconds later, it’s Haze they’re struggling to haul away. One of his eyes blazes with magic, and  you doubt even the combined strength of the bouncers will hold him back.

Stepping forward, you lay a hand gently on Haze’s back. He whirls, snarling and ready to attack, but the sight of you calms him instantly.

“Ma’am-” one of the security guards warns.

“Down, Mutt,” you order, not taking your eyes off of Haze. He drops to a crouch. You clip the leather leash you kept from last night onto the ring on his collar. His eyelights have returned to normal, and the only sign of his previous rage is the blood spatter on his hands and shirt.

“I’ve got him,” you reassure the stunned bouncers, leading a relaxed and obedient Haze to the door. You leave the noisy bustle of the club for the cool quiet of the city streets, heading for a nearby gastro-pub with the lanky skeleton monster walking docilely along behind you. You stop outside the crowded establishment, bathed in the welcoming light pouring from the plate glass windows.

“How dare you embarrass me like that!” you snap at him. “Do you think I can’t defend myself?” 

“My Mistress shouldn’t have to dirty her hands on scum like that.” Stark shadows play across the pale bones of Haze’s face, and his eyelights dart back towards the club as if he’s considering returning there to finish what he started.

“My pet should follow orders,” you counter, tugging the leash hard and forcing Haze to lower his head. His cheeks flush a dim orange.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Still, I suppose you’ve earned a reward for teaching that pig a lesson.” You gesture for him to bring his face close to yours, and he obliges. Caressing his smooth cool cheekbones, you tilt his chin slightly and press your lips to his mouth. A second passes; he doesn’t react. 

Suddenly, your back is crushed between Haze’s ribcage and the brickwork of the building. His thick, glowing tongue parts your lips, thrusting its way sensually into your mouth. You can’t hold back a soft moan as his own hands rise, one to the curve of your ass and the other to your face. His tongue licks and strokes yours, leaving you dazed. With a gasp, you break the kiss.

“D-down, Mutt,” you order, trying to regain control of the situation. He complies, choosing instead to nuzzle at your neck. “We’re going inside to eat.”

“We could go back to the Bara House, Mistress. I enjoyed eating there last night,” His eyes gleamed with an entirely different kind of hunger. 

_This might make for a fun game_ , you think. As you pull open the door to the classy little eatery, diners scramble back to their proper seats, pretending they hadn’t just been fogging up the window with their voyeurism. You couldn’t put your plan in motion while seated at the bar, so you request a booth. Haze is at just the right height that the person seating you has to struggle to ignore the phosphorescent bulge straining against the fabric of Haze’s jeans.

You take your seat, and Haze, after waiting for your nod of approval, sits across from you. Once again, your plan necessitates him sitting in an actual seat, otherwise he’d be kneeling on the floor at your side. The host hands both of you menus then makes himself scarce, obviously wanting to be as far away as humanly possible from Haze’s laser light show. As quietly as you can, you slip out of your shoes.

“I’ve been looking for a new pet,” you purr, distracting him with your voice as you slide your foot up to his crotch. His sockets widen, almost imperceptibly, at the touch. “You meet all of my standards.” You use your toes to unbutton his jeans, catching the zipper and pulling it down slowly. Heat radiates from his face and his freed member, and you’re sure they’re both glowing the same bright orange. 

“Y-yes, Mistress,” he stutters slightly as your foot slides up the underside of his cock. “I’ll be your pet.” You knead and press at his member, letting him know what a good answer that is, and he lets out desperate little moan. “Ahhhh…”

You raise a finger to your lips. “Quiet, Mutt. You wouldn’t want to disappoint your new mistress, would you?” You press the tips of your toes to the tip of his dick and precum soaks into your sock. Haze breathes heavily, trying to hold back any sounds. One of his hands tries to creep surreptitiously below the edge of the table.

“Hands on the table, Mutt.” You instruct softly.

“Yes, Mistress.” You rub in circles, feeling the throb of his cock as he becomes more aroused.

The waitress arrives, and she already appears to be suspicious of you and Haze. She raises an eyebrow at the leash laying on the table, judging without saying a word. She’s uncomfortable asking either of you to order, so she simply waits expectantly.

“Go ahead and order something,” you say sweetly to Haze as you bring up your other foot to join the first. Curling them both around his thick shaft, you begin to slowly stroke him up and down. His fingertips dig into the tabletop as he fights backs a moan.

“I’ll… ah… have the… ahhh…” He glances at the menu, picking the first item he sees. “Potato skins,” he gasps triumphantly.

“Appetizer sampler for me,” you tell the scandalized waitress. Haze has collapsed into a panting, drooling mess as you pump his length under the table. She grabs your menus and backs away as quickly as she can without turning and running.

You can tell Haze is getting close; his cock is swollen and throbbing with his nearing orgasm. The tall skeleton is grasping the table to steady himself as he begins to thrust desperately into the makeshift pussy created by the soft fabric of your socks. You shush him once more as a another breathy moan escapes him.

With a wicked grin, you withdraw your feet, slipping them back into your shoes. Haze whimpers.

“Mistress… please… I’m so close,” he begs, but he keeps his voice low and his hands on the table just as you’ve commanded.

“Then finish yourself off, Mutt,” you suggest, smile widening. His lids lower over sockets sporting heart shaped eyelights; his face blazes from the intensity of his blush. He loves this, loves the debauchery of masturbating on command, of pleasuring himself in public; he revels in the knowledge of curious onlookers watching him.

Haze’s hands disappear beneath the table. There’s no mistaking the rhythmic motion of his arm or the subdued groans slipping from his partially open mouth. He leans back, closing his sockets and giving in fully to the pleasure. Sneaky sideways glances from the other customer become outright open-mouthed stares.

“M-mistress… hhhnnnn… ahhhh!” The entire booth shakes with the force of Haze’s final thrust as he cums, cock spasming and spilling his seed into his hand and onto the floor. You send out a mental apology to whoever will have to clean that up.

When Haze rests his hands back on the table after fixing his clothing, you can see that the bloodstains have now been joined by thick sticky globs of translucent orange cum. Seeing him so dirty from the night’s activities is incredibly hot. You lick your lips, about to make a clever suggestive comment when two to-go containers are dropped unceremoniously in front of you.

The manager stands next to your booth, arms crossed over his chest; your waitress cowers behind him. “I’ve going to have to ask you to leave,” he states flatly.

“We were finished here anyway.” You wink cheekily at him. He isn’t amused. You drop some cash on the table, enough to cover the bill plus a considerable tip. “Come along, Mutt.” Haze follows you closely as you leave. None of the other patrons will meet your eyes, and they shift nervously as you pass as if Haze might begin humping their entrees at any moment.

Before you step to the curb to hail a cab, you hand your phone to Haze. “Put your number in my phone.” He nods, tapping  out his contact information quickly.

He hands the phone back and you inspect the entry. It’s saved as “Mutt.”

“We’re going to have lots of fun, you and I,” you promise, waving down a taxi as you speak.

“Yes, Mistress,” Haze agrees, watching as you get into the vehicle. As the cab pulls away, Haze’s eyelights follow it. He doesn’t teleport until the taillights have vanished from his line of sight.


	3. Chapter 3

You don’t call. You choose to make him wait, well aware that anticipation and delayed gratification only add to the thrill of the experience.

* * *

“If you look at your phone one more fucking time, I’m going to break it!” Blackberry snarled at his brother. Haze had been moping on the living room sofa for days, glancing at his phone every few minutes to make sure he hadn’t missed a call. It was driving Blackberry crazy. Stupid simpering Mutt!

“Is something wrong?” asked Blueberry, glaring at Blackberry and wondering how he could be so insensitive to his own brother’s mood.

Blackberry turned on Blue, infuriated by the interruption. “He’s an idiot!” Haze took advantage of his brother’s distraction and checked his phone again. Still nothing. “He picked up some whore, called her his Mistress, and now he’s disappointed because she won’t call him!” Blackberry gestured sharply and angrily at his brother with each statements. His tone when he said the word “Mistress” conveyed his obvious contempt for the title.

“Aww, you’re worried about your brother!” Blueberry shouted excitedly. Blackberry always acted like he didn’t care about anyone. Blackberry made a choked screeching sound and stormed out of the room.

“Well, I hope your girlfriend calls you.” Blue hated to see anyone so dejected. Haze ignored him, staring intently at his phone now that Blackberry wasn’t nearby to berate him for it.

* * *

You stop by the club for the fifth night in a row. You’re not here to socialize, though. You’re just making sure your new pet isn’t courting a new owner behind your back in lieu of waiting for your call. He isn’t, and you’re pretty pleased. Maybe the Mutt deserves a reward. You pull out your phone. Haze answers before the phone can even register the connection and ring.

“Mistress?” He must have been holding his phone already. Cute.

“Of course,” you purr into the phone. “I think you’ve earned yourself a reward, Mutt. Meet me at our usual rendezvous in-” You never finish the sentence. The air next to you displaces and there he is, towering over you in the split second it takes him to materialize before he kneels on the floor.

“Shall we, Mistress?” Haze extends a skeletal hand to you. You reach for him, but instead of taking his hand, you caress the top of his skull, petting him gently. His eyes close, and he leans into your touch, pressing his body against yours and nearly toppling you. You doubt he’ll stay this adorable and affectionate when your games begin.

“Let’s go, Mutt.” You’re becoming used to the brief discomfort of instantaneous relocation, but you still need a moment to readjust to your settings. Once again, you wait in complete darkness while Haze finds the light switch. You’re prepared this time and keep your eyes closed against the sudden brightness.

You haven’t even gotten the chance to open your eyes yet when you feel sharp teeth scrape against your lips and a warm, wet tongue probing at your mouth, demanding entrance. Haze’s fangs on your delicate skin make you gasp, and his tongue fills your mouth. The magical appendage is so thick and incredibly dexterous, and it reminds you of your first date with him. Weak in the knees from remembered pleasure, you cling to his shirt helplessly.

Haze’s hands slide up your back, and he’s half-carrying, half-walking you backwards until you bump into the bed. Huge hands grab your ass and lift you onto the mattress, laying you on your back with your legs still hanging off of the bed. Your eyes are wide open now, and you can’t help feeling intense arousal ripple through you.

Mutt is standing at his full height, regarding you with glowing orange eyes which are easily outshone by the glow emanating from the front of his jeans. He’s panting already like a Bid Bad Wolf ready to gobble you up, and you’re not that concerned with what big teeth his has. You want it, but  _you’re_  in charge.

“Down, Mutt,” you snap. He drops to a crouch, face flushed with a mixture of desire and embarrassment at his lack of control. “Get your clothes off first, dog. This isn’t a bathroom tryst. Show some class.”

“Sorry, Mistress,” he apologizes, removing his clothing. You allow yourself a moment to calm your breathing, then follow suit. As you shed your undergarments, you catch a glimpse of Haze watching you. His eyes rake your body, eyelights in the shape of hearts, tongue lolling and dripping drool. Nobody has ever stared at you in such open, almost religious adulation before. He’d be on you in a heartbeat if you just spoke a single word, but you chose a different word instead.

“Bed,” you order him, pointing unnecessarily. You decide not to tie him up this time. You want to test his control… and maybe let things get a little out of control. Waiting has eaten away at your patience as well.

He climbs onto the bed, settling himself onto his back and holding his arms above his head to be cuffed or tied. You ignore his choice of position, and move down until your face is between his femurs, admiring his lovely shaft. With a wicked grin on your face, you rub your cheekbone against it, and when he tries to bring one of his hands up to cup your face, you scold him.

“You’re not allowed to move, Mutt. Not when your Mistress is giving you your reward.” He whimpers, and a bead of precum forms at the tip of his length, sticking to your cheek like a viscous teardrop. You use one hand to stroke his pubis and the other to steady his erection as you swathe it with your tongue, sliding your warm, wet tongue from the base to the tip. 

Haze’s pointed phalanges dig savagely into the bedsheets as he resists the urge to touch you, and his femurs tremble as he struggles to keep his hips from bucking. “Mistress,” he gasps in utter bliss. You can tell he wants more, wants to  _take_  more, but obedience binds him tighter than chains.

“Oh, we’d better not forget the collar.” Haze touches his spiked, leather collar, brow bones furrowed in confusion, but you clear things up for him by showing him the cock ring you’d tucked into your palm while you were undressing earlier. From your up close and personal estimate, it’ll be a perfect fit.

Haze groans, loud and low, as you apply the ring, fastening it securely in place. There’s a bullet vibrator attachment as well. The ring is snug, but not overly tight, just as you predicted. Now to enjoy it. You press the switch to turn the vibrator on, and Haze’s hips shudder with the effort of keeping still. You chuckle; you’ve only just gotten started.

You mount Haze, straddling him and rubbing your hot, dripping pussy up and down the length of his cock. You hum happily as his cock swells with need, knowing he can’t achieve release until you allow it. In the meantime, you’re going to satisfy yourself on his thick, twitching member. You grip his cock tightly with one hand, rubbing the tip in tight little circles around your entrance, letting out full, lusty moans. Haze’s sockets are clamped tightly shut in concentration, trying to condition his body to stillness.

You tease Haze ruthlessly, refusing to allow him to penetrate you. Your juices are slicking his cock, and his whole body quivers. “Do you want my cunt, Mutt?” The frottage is making you superbly sensitive, and Haze can tell. He raises then lowers his hands, uncertain.

“Yes, Mistress,” he keens, eyeing your swollen clit and puffy pussy lips. Saliva leaks from his jaws as he imagines tasting you, filling you, fucking you.

“No moving,” you reiterate. Haze’s control is becoming tenuous as you line him up with your palpitating opening. Fuck, he’s so thick, and the cock ring is only accentuating his girth. You guide him inside of you, slowly, carefully. The pull and stretch of your tight pussy walls leaves you with the most satisfying feeling of fullness until his cock is sheathed completely within you. You can feel the vibrator on your clit, and you nearly scream.

Haze snaps; he can’t help it. He keeps his hands on the bed, but he’s thrusting his hips involuntarily. You don’t reprimand him. Riding him while he bucks and writhes beneath you is like masturbating with a living toy. You tilt your hips forward for the best angle, moving up and down on Haze’s engorged magic. Haze is moaning the word  Mistress with each rise and fall of your body, and you’re pouring forth a steady stream of “yes”s and mewls.

You move harder and faster, and he matches your pace, upholding the strict no touch standard. He doesn’t need to use his hands for anything other than bracing himself on the bed as he pounds into you from below. Your head is thrown back, and your soft sex sounds have turned into ragged screams as you get closer and closer to orgasm.

You press your full weight down as he slams his cock into you. The orgasm that rips through your body is blindingly intense, one of the best you’ve ever had. The vibrations coursing through your gushing cunt must feel amazing to Haze because his cock throbs, desperate for its own release. Not yet, though. First, you need to finish your own screaming, squirting orgasm, then you’re going to tease him a little more.

Stretching languorously, you slip off of the rock hard orange phallus and return to your original position, crouched on the bed with your leering face between Haze’s femurs. His ivory bones with their tracery of scars are streaked and stained with the results of your orgasm, and his cock has an extra glossy sheen from your juices in addition to its pulsating glow.

You lick his shaft from base to tip, a repetition of your earlier action, but this time you taste yourself on him. “Please, Mistress,” Haze murmurs, unable to stop himself. You hum as if considering his pleas, but if he wants the reward, he has to let you administer it.

“Your Mistress is rewarding you, Mutt,” you tell him right before taking his full length into your mouth. He yelps, far beyond his usual stamina and painfully sensitive. You lap the underside of his sock with your tongue as you begin to suck. As you take him deeper into your warm, wet throat, you begin to hum, letting the vibrations of your vocal cords join those of the vibrator. You bob your head up and down until he’s throat-fucking you, knowing he can’t cum, can’t get the release he so desperately needs no matter how good the blowjob feels.

You opt to have mercy on him. Haze has behaved himself impeccably, and you don’t want to leave the cock ring on for too long and risk damaging that gorgeous glowing cock. Withdrawing your mouth, you reach down and carefully remove the cock ring. Haze gasps.

“Mistress…”

“This is your reward.”

You grasp his swollen member and jerk it quickly a few times. It only takes three strokes before he explodes in orgasm. Ropes of thick milky cum shoot from his cock onto your face, breasts, and stomach. His dick continues to pulse, spilling more and more of his seed onto you. You take all of it.

Once he’s finally emptied himself, he leans forward, eagerly licking his cum from your face and neck. He hums happily as he moves downward, swirling his tongue around your breasts and softly biting your nipples as he slurps up every drop of his load from your skin. His breath is warm, and he runs his hands erotically up and down your body.

“My Mistress,” he purrs quietly, nuzzling against your neck. He pulls you close, obviously expecting you to stay the night with him. You don’t argue. What harm could it do?


	4. Chapter 4

You liked to leave plenty of time between intense sessions for both you and Haze to recuperate. Plus, you didn’t want him to build up a tolerance for the painplay that you both enjoyed. No, sometimes it was better to wait. This particular session had been in the works for well over a month now, resulting in well over a month of vanilla (for you anyway) sex. Tonight, it was finally time to play rough and dirty.

* * *

“Do you trust me?” you ask your pet in a singsong voice, setting a case down on the nightstand and opening it. He’s already tied securely to the bed by his wrists, but you want him to know exactly what he’s in for to give him a chance to back out. He doesn’t disappoint you.

“Of course, Mistress.” He doesn’t hesitate. As usual, he’s naked and rock hard, but you’ve opted for a sexy leather bra, garter, and thigh high boots. His eyes rove your body, and he pants, liking what he sees. His lustful gaze always makes you feel beautiful and sexy. You open the case.

It contains a blindfold and an array of knives and sounding rods. You give Haze a moment to take in the contents of the case. You run your finger slowly down a scalpel’s blade, drawing a line of red that weeps a tear of blood. His gaze is locked- on your bleeding finger- or the sharp implements you plan to use on him, you aren’t sure. You grin wickedly.

“Do you still trust me?” you purr, straddling him and pressing your bleeding finger to his mouth.

“I’m yours,” he moans huskily, tongue darting out to sweep the blood from your finger into his mouth. You give him a safe-word, knowing he’ll never use it, then affix a blindfold firmly across his sockets.

Now that you had deprived him of sight, you slide off of the bed, standing next to him silently, watching his breath hitch in anticipation made more intense by the fact that you’ve done absolutely nothing. You pick up a sounding rod composed of glass beads and tap it gently against the steel of the knives.  _Clink, clink, clink_. He tenses, straining to figure out what you’re doing, what you’re touching. He saw what was in the case, now it’s only a matter of what you’re going to use and when.

You debate between playing around with the sounding rod first and teasing him with the blades. His cock is already leaking precum, and you don’t want him to get overstimulated and cum before you’re finished playing with him. You stroke the smooth, clear glass with your fingers, admiring the gentle curve of the small glass balls. Perfect.

Haze’s thick shaft twitches when you touch it, carefully wrapping your hand around it to hold him still, and pumping up and down gently to increase the pleasure. Slowly, you insert the sounding rod into his urethra, watching it disappear inside him bead by bead. His back arches, and he hisses a breathy “Yes” that makes you shiver. You release his cock, hand sticky with precum, and give the sounding rod a tiny wiggle that makes Haze moan.

You go still and silent once more. Haze fidgets, making almost imperceptible thrusts with his hips, seeking more pleasure. You can tell the tension is getting to him though, and you love it. You browse your selection of blades. Some of them are sharper than others, more suited for actual blood-letting. You pick a knife with a duller blade to gauge his reaction.

You touch the flat of the slender polished blade to Haze’s cheek, and he gasps. You slide the steel down to his neck vertebrae and touch the sharp point to his throat, waiting to see if he’ll say the safe word. He breathes heavily, but if anything, he sounds even more turned on by the danger. You’re impressed. You drag the edge of the knife down Haze’s sternum; the scrape of blade on bone is erotic music to your ears. 

“Aahh… Harder…” Haze moans. You press down harder on the knife, and it bites into his sternum. He keens in utter pleasure, and his hips buck noticeably. You place the dull blade back in the case and select one with a razor-thin edge. Haze’s tongue lolls and his chest heaves as he eagerly awaits your next movements.

“You actually like the pain, don’t you, masochistic dog?” you growl right next to his skull.

“Yes, Mistress. Please… more,” he whimpers, body shaking with pent-up sexual energy.

You oblige, slicing cleanly into one of his ribs. Thick marrow oozes from the cut, and a delicious shudder jolts Haze’s entire body. You let the blade brush lightly along his other ribs, a maddeningly gentle sensation. You ghost the blade over the curves of his hipbones, and he lifts them in an attempt to force you to cut him. You’re too quick though, pulling the knife away and flicking the tip of the sounding rod as punishment.

“Please, Mistress,” he begs. You consider leaving to get some coffee and making him wait as punishment, but you can’t help being aroused when he pleads in that tone. You reach into the case, lifting out the dulled knife again.

You skim the blunted edge up the underside of his throbbing cock, and he moans profanities as he swells with forbidden release. You graze his shaft with the sharper edge, creating a shallow cut along the length of it. Haze writhes on the bed in exquisite agony. You rasp the duller knife along his iliac crests, scraping and digging surface wounds into the bones while you make swift slashes along the inside edges of his femurs with the honed blade , taking your time and enjoying the harsh sounds of metal against hardened calcium.

His pleas and whimpers have faded to incomprehensible background noise as you work, torturing his body to climax with wicked precision. None of the cuts are deep enough to scar, though you doubt he’d be opposed to wearing marks of your violent affections. An hour passes, and you’ve left no bone unmarred by the caress of your blades. Your Mutt is a drooling whimpering mess, and it’s time to reward him with a satisfying orgasm.

“Hold still,” you order with a dark chuckle, and Haze’s trembling body immediately tenses as he fights to control its needy movements. Taking the slim knife with the blunt edge, you carefully insert it into his urethra alongside the beaded sounding rod. He begins wailing, and you pause, listening for the safe word, prepared to quickly and carefully withdraw the blade. You finally make out the word he’s repeating and it’s not the safe word… He’s saying “more” over and over again in a delirium of sheer ecstasy. You force the knife the rest of the way in until only the handle protrudes. 

His cock is engorged and pulsing, so you steady it with one hand and wrap the other hand around the knife and the rod. Grasping them firmly, you pull them out of him in one swift motion. Cum explodes from his cock in hot sticky strands, spraying out in a massive amount to coat his pelvis, his ribcage, and the bed. His cock continues to throb, pouring out more and more of his seed as he groans with the sweet, pure bliss of the release.

You remove his blindfold, stroking his skull softly. “What a good Mutt,” you tell him, scooping some of his cum onto your fingers and lifting it to your mouth to suck and swallow. He’s staring at you with hungry, half-lidded eyes when you lean over him to release his wrists from their bindings. You’ve only just begun to untie the knot when he pulls free, tipping you backwards until you’re flat on your back on the bed.

“You didn’t orgasm, Mistress,” he rumbles in a smooth, low voice. He licks his jaws and reaches forward to touch your quivering pussy lips.

You slap his hand away. “No, Mutt. Use your mouth.”

Haze plants his hands firmly on the bed on either side of your hips, and dips his face down between your thighs. He parts your swollen lips with one long swipe of his tongue, gulping down a mouthful of your arousal. You’re slick to the point of dripping with juices, and he laps them up eagerly. He hasn’t even been inside you yet, and you feel like your entire body is alight with pleasure. You shiver as his mouth finds your clit, suckling and nibbling until you’re mewling for more.

He’s an expert at oral sex, and he doesn’t rush, After gently nipping your sensitive nub, he swirls his tongue around your clenching entrance, not entering you, just stimulating and exciting you until you’re grasping his skull with both hands, fingertips scraping cranial bones. 

Fuck, it’s so intense, and he hasn’t even-

His tongue parts your folds once more and this time he doesn’t stop until the thick appendage is stretching and filling your pussy to the limit. He’s thrusting his tongue deeply into you, curling and twisting it in ways that he shouldn’t even be capable of. The bridge of his nasal cavity rubs roughly against your clit, and his writhing tongue drags and prods against your G-spot repeatedly. His hands rise to grasp your thighs tightly, squeezing your supple flesh as he holds them apart for better access.

He laps at you, darting his tongue in and out, finding every sensitive spot inside of your pulsating walls, and he’s making your eyes roll back in your head as your orgasm builds. It’s almost too much; you actually worry that you might faint as his fangs nip your pussy lips while he suckles at your arousal, then your clit, only to slam his tongue fully into you again.

Your back arches, lifting your hips entirely off the bed, and you can’t hold back any longer. You’re screaming and squirting, and he’s gulping it down as it gushes out of you to dribble out the corners of his mouth and down his chin. You’re both panting as he pulls you close, wrapping a blanket around you and trapping you in his arms.

You’re too tired to protest, and it isn’t the first time you’ve spent the night with him after sex. In fact, it’s becoming a habit. You’re even starting to like it.

* * *

”Finally! Where have you been all day, Mutt?” Blackberry snapped impatiently the moment Haze walked through the door. Mutt avoided the question by going to the refrigerator, grabbing a gallon of milk, and drinking it straight from the jug.

“You were following that new girl around again, weren’t you? I thought she told you to stop doing that.” Blackberry would’ve punched the gallon of milk out of Mutt’s hand, but he was mesmerized by how much of it Mutt was drinking and how quickly. Mutt polished off the entire gallon in a matter of minutes.

He shrugged indifferently.

“She did… So now I just make sure she doesn’t see me.”


	5. Chapter 5

You would never get tired of taking your Mutt to fetish clubs to show him off. Nothing said status like a confident fem-dom leading a tall, dangerous-looking skeleton monster around on a leather leash. You caught the other doms’ approving nods whenever Mutt licked your boots or provided himself as a living ottoman so that said boots didn’t have to rest on the unworthy club floors. Even the subs shot you wistful glances when they saw Mutt sprawled across your lap, nuzzling your stomach happily as you petted him.

There was just one minor problem. Though Haze was a very obedient submissive towards you, he tended to get fiercely territorial when anyone else got too close. Friendly overtures by other clubgoers were met with an icy orange glare, and Mutt even had the audacity to growl if he thought they wanted to share your attention. 

Every time you scolded him about it, he’d smile apologetically and say “yes Mistress,” but you doubted your words made any impact considering that he continued with the behavior moments later. You didn’t want to give up the exceptionally rewarding sexual relationship you had with him, but the flippant disobedience grated on you.

* * *

It’s been an awful day. You feel completely burned out, so much so that you decide to text Haze and cancel your rendezvous tonight. You just want to bundle up in some blankets and binge watch Netflix until you fall asleep. You sigh as you approach your house. Almost there. Your keys jingle as you unlock your front door.

“You rang,” murmurs a soft voice at your ear.  _Haze!_

Your Mutt looks quite proud of himself, holding up a tray with four different steaming drinks and a bag of baked goods from your favorite coffee house. How had he gotten everything so fast? You’d only texted him ten minutes ago! Not to mention that you’d texted him to  _cancel_  your date. Still, his hopeful expression, and the prospect of dessert and a warm drink, melt your heart and your resolve.

You invite him in. He takes a seat a little bit too close to you on the couch. You inspect his edible offerings. He’s gotten one of each item on the menu that you like and nothing that you don’t usually order. If your mouth wasn’t watering so badly, you’d be a little uneasy.

He watches you eat like you’re performing some glorious and heartfelt aria instead of chowing down in a spray of delicious crumbs. You love the way Haze stares at you, captivated, as if you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and he can’t get enough. He looks like he wants to devour you, and suddenly, you want him to. His sincere attention has driven away your dampened mood and awakened your libido.

Haze leans in to lick a crumb from your cheek, but you hold up a hand to stop him. He freezes, the instant obedience restoring your confidence in him. You stand up and walk over to the bedroom. He remains in the exact same position on the couch. You briefly consider making him stay in the uncomfortable pose for a few hours, but you’re not in the mood for waiting games. Pushing open the door to the darkened room, you beckon him to you.

“Heel, Mutt.” 

He’s at your side in a moment. You turn on the lights, inspecting the equipment around the room. You’re already forming a plan for the evening’s activities. You can hear Haze licking his teeth in anticipation. You open a drawer, pulling out a sturdy leather leash and some handcuffs. You don’t even have to say anything; Haze is already crouched in place beside a metal ring in the wall. You hook the leash to his collar and fasten it to the ring before cuffing his wrists and attaching the handcuff chain to another, thicker chain dangling from the ceiling. You finish your preparations by shoving his pants down his hips just enough to display his erection.

“Such a good boy,” you purr, taking the warm, smooth length in your hand and stroking it languorously. Mutt tests the strength of the bindings by attempting to lean further into your touch, but they hold fast. Precum leaks from the tip of his cock, dripping onto your hand. Mutt whimpers, a heady lustful sound, and you frown. You reach back into the drawer and pull out a ball gag, settling it firmly between his jaws and clasping it at the back of his skull. 

Thin strings of drool collect at the corners of his mouth, and you can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he breathes heavily. Not a single sound escapes him though. You are ready to begin.

You start slow, sitting on the bed and sliding your boots off. Haze’s eyelights reverently follow your every movement. You kick off your socks, placing them next to the boots, and Mutt is mesmerized, possibly because he recognizes a striptease when he sees one. You stand back up to remove your pants, accentuating your curves with slow, exaggerated movements before letting them fall to the floor. You shirt is lifted over you head, revealing your stomach and chest inch by inch before it joins the growing pile of garments.

Now you’re standing in front of Haze wearing nothing except panties and a bra. His eyes rove your body, hungry and pleading. More saliva spills out around the gag, and his cock twitches impatiently.You unhook your bra, taking what feels like an eternity to slide it off of your arms. Lastly, you bend over, angling your hips so that your ass protrudes sensually as you slip your fingers under the waistband of your panties. You have to peel them free of your eager pussy though, and you’re sure Haze doesn’t miss the sticky slick coating them. You can actually hear the sound of leather straining as you climb back onto the bed.

You don’t rush, propping up some pillows so that you can recline comfortably facing Haze. The Mutt’s eyes gleam with carnal energy, the desire to carefully worship your body being replaced by the growing need to destroy it.

Locking gazes with him, you spread your legs. His sockets widen as he takes in your puffed, glistening lips and slightly swollen clit. His jaws grind the gag as saliva drips from his chin onto his cock.

You part your pussy lips with one hand, running one finger up the center of your trembling folds. You’re extremely sensitive, and even the light brush of your own fingertips sends shivers up your spine. Keeping yourself spread wide, you start to insert a finger into your hot, wet hole. It’s tight and pulsing with need; the sensation of your finger against sensitive walls is electrifying.

You let out a breathy moan, using the thumb of one hand to gently press and rub your clit. Haze’s ardent eyelights on your supple flesh only increase your pleasure. Moan chases moan out of your mouth as you insert a second finger into your greedy cunt. You didn’t realize you were so turned on. You finger yourself at a fervent pace, increasing the pressure on your tender nub. Your moans have become loud and hoarse. 

You arch your back, lifting your hips off of the bed for a better angle, probing yourself deeply with curling fingers until the heat between your legs is almost unbearable. You don’t want to stop, but you know you won’t be able to satisfy yourself the way that Haze can.

You get on your hands and knees, facing away from him, and decide to test a theory that’s been on your mind for awhile now. Haze is incredibly strong, and you know he can teleport. You wonder if cuffs and chains could really hold him if there wasn’t a Master’s will behind it.

You can feel your arousal coating your thighs as you present yourself to him. “Come, Mutt,” you whisper, knowing he’s been waiting on the words since you started touching yourself. You aren’t prepared for the sharp  _SNAP!_ of breaking leather or the  _PING!_ of rent metal. Haze’s massive body partially blocks the light as he mounts you, planting a large hand on either side of your face and pushing your legs further apart with his. 

He doesn’t ask, doesn’t wait, just acts on your command, burying his length fully inside of you in one fierce thrust. He fucks you hard, slamming his bony hips against your ass with bruising force. One hand disappears from your line of vision; suddenly, the ball gag drops to the bed. No longer restrained, you feel Haze’s mouth pressing the back of your neck, licking harshly and biting you with a feral growl as he hammers your pussy. You see the end of the leash dangling beside your face and grab it, yanking hand.

“Fuck me like the filthy Mutt you are,” you snarl at him, and his pace becomes brutal. He’s filling you almost to the breaking point then leaving you empty and needy as he pulls back out. Your desperate walls clench at him, but he’s unrelenting, pounding his immense shaft into your g-spot over and over until you forget how to breathe, how to speak, how to even support your own body.

A powerful, bony arm wraps around your waist, holding you up. The hand attached to the arm firmly presses your lower abdomen, and you’re screaming in overwhelming ecstasy at the added friction to your blazing nerve centers. Haze slows his thrusts, but he also increases the force behind them. He must be close. Your entire body is alive with sexual bliss and you’re not sure if you’re going to orgasm or if you already have and it’s just that amazing. Nothing makes sense.

Haze cums with his usual body-rocking intensity, and for a blissful moment, everything is white fire and blue lightning. You think you might faint as copious amounts of glowing orange magic pour into you. Haze even bucks his hips once more to make sure he’s filling you properly with his load. You’re too spent to move, and Haze is in no hurry to withdraw from you. Instead, he pulls you against his body, gingerly stroking your hair.

“See, Mistress? I can take care of you,” he rumbles, still inside of you, still twitching, though your exhausted body is going numb from the strenuous, magnificent session. You murmur happy nonsensical sounds against his shirt.

“You only need me.”

His last words echo in your mind as you drift off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Haze’s insecurity has you wavering between adoration for his commitment and annoyance at his clinginess. You’re even fairly certain he hasn’t stopped hanging around outside of your house in the evenings even though you specifically told him to stop. You contemplate the situation and decide to suggest something to test his loyalty to you and willingness to follow your orders. It’s easy for the Mutt to obey when you’re engaging in activities he likes, so why not challenge his boundaries?

You pick up your phone and hit the speed-dial option for his number. As usual he picks up before the phone can even properly ring.

“Mistress?” He sounds so eager to please that you almost regret your plan to test him. Almost.

“Why don’t you come over for a movie tonight? You can pick up something at the nice Indian restaurant downtown.”

“Yes, Mistress!”

One of the benefits of a partner of Mutt’s stature is the extreme cuddling potential. Though you’ve discovered that the big skeleton moves around quite a bit in his sleep, he is very affectionate and peaceful when you’re sharing a blanket on the couch. You aren’t always a hardass or a sex fiend; sometimes you just want to enjoy Haze’s company and feel the comfort of his large, warm body.

Mutt rings the doorbell much sooner than you expect, but that’s because he casually teleports everywhere, not because he’s been waiting outside your house for you to call him. He wouldn’t do that. He  _probably_  wouldn’t do that. You hope he hadn’t done that.

You hold up the movie you’ve chosen for the night, knowing that you could’ve chosen something blatantly terrible, and he would agree to watch it to please you. He nods, smiling contentedly and setting the takeout down. He immediately heads into the kitchen for plates and utensils, and you take the opportunity to check the receipt. Sure enough, though you’ve never specifically told him what you like from that restaurant, he’s ordered  _only_  your favorite meal in two servings.

You deliberately chose a restaurant that you hadn’t been to with Haze. You rarely went there yourself, so none of the staff would recognize you or remember your name. As a matter of fact, you’d never ordered Indian food in front of Haze at all.

“Have you been following me again, Mutt?” you ask softly.

He blinks, just one quick blink, before he answers, but it’s a telling gesture despite the word “No” that emerges smoothly from his mouth.

“I told you to stop following me all the time.” You don’t raise your voice. You actually start putting food on plates while you speak.

“I don’t do it all the time,” he whines. You lift one eyebrow. “What if you need me, and you’re not home?”

“I have a phone,” you explain reasonably. You don’t have it in your heart to stay angry at him, not when he’s looking at you with such hopeful, adoring eyes. “I’m into choking, Mutt, but I hate being smothered.,” you mock-scold. He laughs, and the tension is gone in the space of a breath.

You eat your respective dinners in companionable silence. You put more food on Haze’s plate than you put on your own because of the obvious difference in your sizes, but you notice that he watches you, making sure you’re full and satisfied before he finishes his meal. His sweetness makes you smile, and you turn on the movie.  

You prop yourself at one end of the couch so that Haze can fully stretch himself out. He nestles on top you with his ribcage between you legs and you run your hands over the soft fabric of his shirt and the smooth bones of his skull as a plot unfolds on the television. As the night and the movie progress, Haze pulls an oversized blanket from the back of the couch to cover you both. You’d been getting cold, but you hadn’t even shivered or mentioned it yet.

In the dim light of the living room, as the movie credits roll to the beat of a catchy song, you bring up your idea.

“I think I’d like to try a threesome,” you mention, idly inspecting your nails, waiting for his reaction.

“Mistress?” he asks cautiously.

“Or perhaps,” your voice becomes a bit more authoritative. “Cuckolding. Yes. I want you to watch while someone else fucks me.”

Haze goes still, eerily still since he doesn’t technically need to breathe. You can actually see beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he quells his emotions. When he finally does speak, however, his voice is composed and amicable.

“I’m sure m’Lord would be-”

“I’m not going to sleep with your brother, Mutt. I will choose someone and let you know. Understand?”

He resists the urge to fidget. He bites back a protest. His orange eyelights smolder with controlled outrage. He hates this, but will he refuse?

“Do. You. Understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.” He kisses your hand then teleports away. You wonder if he’ll still answer the phone on the first ring the next time you call him.

* * *

Haze’s eyelights blaze with frenetic magical energy as he tears his bedroom apart, shredding fabric, breaking furniture, and punching holes in the walls. A wicked chuckle alerts Mutt to his brother, Blackberry’s, presence.

“Sit, you incorrigible cur,” he snaps. “You’re destroying the things I bought for you.”

Haze drops into a crouching position, unable to meet his Lord’s eyes with so much fury still burning in his own.

“She wants to sleep with someone else,” Haze whimpers, knowing his brother will recognize who he means.

“I suppose I could clear my schedule. It’s not like we haven’t done this before.” Blackberry leers. He enjoys taking and breaking his brother’s playthings, and there is a certain thrill to ordering his brother to add to the destruction of the weak body that writhes beneath them. He licks his teeth eagerly, imagining the upcoming experience.

“Not you. She wants to choose someone… and I’m supposed to watch.” In his frustration, Mutt claws at the carpet, tearing swathes of it up from the floor.

“Ballsy bitch.” Blackberry laughs, leaving Mutt to his unrestrained misery for the moment. Haze rarely has tantrums unless he feels a strong bond to a certain lover. Unfortunately, Haze’s tantrums could become cataclysmic if he thought his Master or Mistress might leave him. Haze might act submissive, but his possessive nature makes him extremely dangerous to toy with. Blackberry guesses the new Mistress will be finding that out the hard way.

* * *

Mutt follows you nonstop throughout the next week. He’s careful, making sure you don’t catch a glimpse of him. He doesn’t want to displease you, but he can’t tolerate not knowing what you’re doing… and with whom. Every time you make a call, every time you stop to speak with someone he wonders if this is the person. Is this the person he will have to watch defile his beloved Mistress before his very eyes? The person he must allow to take what is his?

He even catches you using a toy on yourself one night as he peeks in your windows. You didn’t even try to call him; he checked. Should he call you? Burst in? He can’t risk driving you away, so he masturbates outside your window, leaving a sticky, translucent orange gift if you bother to sneak behind the bushes to see it.

He watches you sleep. He tracks you. It’s becoming exhausting. After a week of barely sleeping himself, he concludes that he’s not uncovering any useful information. With each passing day the chances of making a mistake and revealing himself to you increase. He decides to give in and endure the wait. He’s not sure what he’ll do when you announce the potential partner.

Kill them?

You might just find someone else….

His body is drained, and he gives in. He’ll sleep on it. Maybe he will be able to think more clearly after a full night of restful slumber.

* * *

The sounds of your moaning invade Haze’s dreams… or are they nightmares? He can’t tell as he pushes to pierce the veil between sleep and wakefulness. Even after he opens his eyes, the sounds continue. It’s you. He would recognize those lustful cries anywhere. There’s just one problem. He’s not the one causing them. You’re not here with him; you must be somewhere else in the house.

Haze scrambles out of bed, racing into the hallway in nothing except a black tank top and some boxers. He pauses, pinpointing your location. The living room. Too impatient to take the stairs, Haze vaults the railing, landing in a crouch in front of the worn sofa where you sit.

Partially naked.

In Lust’s lap.

Your head is tossed carelessly back, and the other skeleton is busy laying down a hickey map of the world on your neck while one of his hands kneads an exposed breast. Haze watches as Lust twists and tugs one of your nipples, making you mewl. Lust’s other hand is out of sight down the front of your pants, but the way you’re rocking your hips and gripping the other skeleton’s forearm tells him  _exactly_  what that hidden hand is doing.

You acknowledge your darling Mutt’s arrival with a simple: “I found someone for our little game tonight.”

Haze is shaking, fists clenched tightly, not daring to open his mouth to speak as Lust does  _something_  to your delicate folds that makes you arch your back and scream.

“C’mon, Haze, there’s plenty for both of us,” teases Lust with a wink, a strand of saliva still connecting his mouth to your neck.

Haze snarls, and you feel the breeze of his fist whipping past your cheek a nanosecond before the sickening crack of bone-on-bone impact permeates your ears. Lust does an almost-comical flip over the back of the sofa, and the sudden loss of his supporting arms sends you sprawling to the floor.

“Keep your fucking hands off of her,” Haze roars as Lust retreats, hands raised in appeasement. The perverted skeleton can’t resist taking a parting shot at you though.

“If you ever get bored with the Mutt and wanna try doggy-style with me, my door’s the second one on the left,” he offers with a wink, hurrying to the aforementioned room before Haze’s temper turns murderous.

You scowl darkly at Haze as he attempts to help you to your feet. You bat his proffered hand away and brush yourself off as you stand up. Mutt looks apologetic, but you’re not about to forgive him. Not this time. He’s gone too far.

“Mistress, please. I-”

You cut him off with a withering glare.

“No. You are just a Mutt. You come when I call, and when I’m done with you, you go back to your kennel. This behavior is unacceptable.”

You stomp towards the door. He follows you, hunched over so as not to loom and frighten you, begging and pleading. You slam the door in his face. 

Haze doesn’t know how long he stands in front of the door, staring blankly at the last place he saw you. It is his brother’s voice that finally snaps him out of his stupor.

“How dramatic.” Blackberry’s tone is emotionless. “I guess that’s the end of that then.”

“I’ll fucking kill him.” Haze whirls, taking a threatening step towards Lust’s room, but Blackberry’s gloved hand on his naked humerus stops him.

“You can’t just kill everyone who touches her, Mutt.”

Haze doesn’t want to disagree with his brother, so he remains silent. He probably could, but you wouldn’t even appreciate it. 

Blackberry decides to take a stab at comforting his brother since there’s nobody around to see him do something as ridiculous as caring. “Guess she didn’t realize how lucky she was to have a scruffy Mutt like you.” Blackberry pats Haze’s arm, but his brother has a faraway look in his eyelights.

Blackberry is right! You just don’t understand how much you need him.

“Do you still have that big cage with the padlock on it?” Haze asks.

Blackberry nods. 

“Can I borrow it?”

Another nod, this time accompanied by: “Just clean it when you’re done,” before Blackberry stalks back to his room, problem apparently solved.

Haze just needs a chance to show you how much you need him. He won’t have to keep you locked up forever. Just until you come to your senses. Just until you need him.

Just until you know not to leave him anymore.

Just until you finally understand that you are  _his_  Mistress.

Forever.


End file.
